


in your head they're still fighting

by EmilyKaldwin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, i have many feelings about fjord and i must scream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 04:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyKaldwin/pseuds/EmilyKaldwin
Summary: To get back up, you have to be thrust down.While the rest of the gang sleeps in the small room in Alfield, Fjord dreams. Of ships and sailors and how one finds himself drowning in the ocean.Or, maybe the southern sweetheart isn't everything he appears to be.





	in your head they're still fighting

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Cranberries's "Zombie", though I like Bad Wolves's [cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XaS93WMRQQ) a little better for Fjord.

_Learn. Grow. Provoke. Consume._

Alfield was safe, for now at least. They still had to go find whatever the hell those hyena-faced fuckers were planning (Nott’s suggestion of some barbecue not forgotten by his empty stomach), but for the moment Fjord allowed himself to breathe again. Sure, the whole sharing one room with the rest of this patchwork band of idiots thing was a surprise, but not as unpleasant as he feared – with all the holes in the roof, a couple of warm bodies around him wasn’t unwelcome. Beau and Molly had agreed to take the floor and made a whole show of putting down their bedrolls as far away from each other as they could, but during the past hour when everyone but Fjord drifted off they had managed to curl up against each other. _They’re gonna yell about it in the morning_ , he thought with a smile, as he spotted one of the tiefling’s ear ornaments horribly tangled in the monk’s unwashed hair. Jester was rolled up in a ball with her tail around her next to him, gently stabbing him in the arm with her horns, and Caleb was sprawled out on his back on Fjord’s other side, Nott clinging to him and almost purring.

By all accounts he should be sleeping too, what with the whole horrible and exhausting day they had and the no doubts even worse one waiting for them on the other side of the dawn, but his mind had been racing since the, well, wet awakening of that morning ( _Do you think you’re turning into water?_ ). He had tried to busy himself with other thoughts, like what the Academy would be like or how to make his girls laugh or a certain pair of haunting eyes, but there in the soft silence of the inn he couldn’t help but think back on it. At every blink, his darkened vision was lit by the same yellow, cold, _hungry_ eye, but as the tiredness of the day started to take hold of him he could also see an orange glow to it, slowly growing and dancing around the edges.

His body grew heavier, the scent of salt and iron wrapping him in its suffocating grasp.

\---

_Watching._

**What are you?**

 

The Dawnbreaker wasn’t by any means an impressive ship, but her crew loved her all the same. He knew her every curve, her little quirks, and if he knew anything he knew how to drive her around the nastiest coasts the gods made. But a man’s knowledge was only as strong as his resolve, he would learn, as something dark and clinging crept on the back of his head and steered his hands.

 

_Watching._

**Watching… me?**

 

They had warned him about the storm, of course. He knew of the danger. He also knew of his anger, his pride, his need to be _more_ , to be _enough_ , and thus gave them honeyed words of reassurance and promise. They trusted him, didn’t they?

Even after the first lightning bolts sent the main mast crashing, tumbling through the shrieking wind into the worn deck, they still trusted him.

 

_Potential._

**My potential?**

 

He had to save them. He couldn’t save them.

What had he done?

 

**What are you asking of me?**

 

The smell of burning wood and flesh and the heat of embers flying in his face replaced everything around him. The floorboards were being ripped apart under him, the screams of grown men reduced to terrified children ringing in his ears as he looked around frantically. He could see them all, rushing to save themselves, clutching wounds that would never heal, staring him in the eyes. They were calling a name, his name, one he was choosing to forget with every pained cry. They were calling for help. They were asking, begging, yelling with all the air still in their lungs, _Why?_

 

_Learn. Grow. Provoke. Consume._

**… I don’t understand.**

 

He knew he had to go down with the ship.

He had to save them, one of them, any of them. Whatever the cost.

But, hidden in his head like a malignant tumor, he heard himself think _what a waste that would be._

And his hand ~~let go~~ slipped from the rope he was holding, his body falling to meet the bloodthirsty waves below.

Drawn to something he couldn’t understand.

Drowning.

 

_Reward._

**A reward for this?**

**…I’m listening.**

\---

It wasn’t his lungs filling with water that woke him up, this time.

His breath caught in his throat as a sharp pain echoed through his side, tearing him away from the chaos of a half-remembered memory. Looking around, he discovered that the dirty wizard on his left had moved around in his sleep, and was now firmly jabbing his bony elbow between his ribs. While gently pushing him away, which earned him soft indignation noises, he noticed the holes his claws had left in the moth-eaten sheets, slightly damp with ~~seawater~~ sweat. _Get it together_ , he spat at himself, and took in a deep, water-free breath.

His name was Fjord. He was in the Empire.

And those were the people he was going to protect. No matter the costs. He promised he was going to make it work, and he wasn’t going to leave anyone behind.

And as he tried to drift off to sleep again, he did his best to ignore the cold, shifting thought in his head that whispered _until you let go again_.

He was going to make it through.

 

_Patience._


End file.
